Sunday, 6 March 2016

Nauseating Nuptials

I try not to be cynical.  Yes, I know Cupid's arrows are often ill-aimed.  You can't help who you fall in love with.  Nobody knows what makes people fall in love, but it's likely to do with chemistry.  But the bitch in me (and it's a rampant, snarling one with venom dripping from its fangs) is very, very cynical about the union between Rupert Murdoch and Jerry Hall on the weekend. 

Christ hooning down the hill on a skateboard, Jerry, what do you SEE in that dried up old lizard?  One thing I'm glad of is this: I was not a fly on the wall on the wedding night.

As mentioned, I do not like to be cynical and I am aware that this marriage is none of my business, but seeing as old Rupe runs a vicious rag and has no compunctions about tapping the telephones of grieving parents, then I think I might as well say something, and that something is: YUCK!

Jerry is someone who is referred to as 'former supermodel'.  That's a tag I just don't understand.  Even back in the Nineties when the phrase was everywhere, I could not see the point to the phenomenon of the 'supermodel'.  It seemed to be a bunch of tall women named Linda, Naomi, Claudia, Christy and Cindy, who according to Linda would 'not get out of bed for less than ten thousand dollars a day'.  The flippancy of the phrase really got up my schnoz.  I mean: are they curing cancer?  They're glorified coat hangers!!!  Years ago, Claudia was in Australia and she gave a press conference, which I saw on the news when I stomped into the flat where I was then living, after a day of fielding annoying police officers, constant phone calls from the girlfriend of someone always euphemistically referred to - in Rupert's newspapers ironically enough - as 'colourful Kings Cross identity' for whom we were preparing a bail application as he was on remand in Long Bay, and the boss was down with the flu so I was pretty much running the place.  It was probably the same day I frightened the newly minted junior solicitor who had joined the firm when after the umpteenth phone call from the gaol bird's girlfriend, I slammed down the phone and shouted, 'I AM SO FUCKING SICK OF [INSERT NAME OF 'COLOURFUL KINGS CROSS IDENTITY HERE]!!!!' But yeah, after a day of this constant barrage of stress, I saw Claudia given a press conference in which she explained the stresses of getting paid a shitload of money for strutting around in new clothes: 'Sometimes, I get jet lagged.' At this piteous poor-me mewling, I scowled at the television, 'Want to swap?', and also got an understanding of why Elvis Presley shot the television.

But anyway, Jerry's just married Rupert, and for the life of me I cannot understand what she sees in him.  She's lowered the bar considerably.  This is a woman who was engaged to Bryan Ferry.  I'm talking Bryan Ferry from the 1970s, and if you still don't understand, go to You Tube and look at the official film clip for 'This Is Tomorrow Calling', and you will just see what I mean.  There is nothing cooler than Seventies-era Ferry.  Jerry actually appears in the film clips for 'The Price Of Love' and 'Let's Stick Together'.  And she was with Mick Jagger for many years, and bore him four children.  Now Mick actually is kind of sexy, believe it or not.  I am aware he looks like a scrotum with lips, but he has charisma by the bucket load.  Rupert just .... doesn't

It's all just icky, icky-poo.

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